"Oh no, oh crap. Not again. I need to get out; I need to get away from you..."
"But Lisa..."
"No, no, don't say it. I gotta get out."
She jumped up and headed for the door. Surprised by his own speed given his disheveled state, he managed to catch...
Lisa watched Michael down his second glass of red wine. They had finally been seated at a small, very private table, after the owner had almost gone into cardiac arrest finding out his very famous guest did not have reservations. He had accommodated them in his private office, serving them appetizers and drinks- on the house, of course-, while waiting for a table to get ready.
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Lisa, who was already pissed from having been denied sexual release again, was tempted to ask Mr. Perfection what had possessed him to not call for reservations. Oh that was right- he had dialing aversion- which explained his army of flunkies who made those calls for him. So, what gave? A snide comment ready to tumble from her lips, something in his expression had stopped her. His eyes told her he was ready, was expecting her to start a fight, so at the very last second, she decided to not grant him the satisfaction.
There, how was that for payback?
When she instead turned toward the owner and sweetly thanked him, expressing her hope to not impose too much, Michael raised an eye brow and slightly shook his head. Why did she feel that everything was a test with him?
During dinner, Michael kept his mask on, raising it to eat and drink. He felt her eyes on it and again, seemed to wait for a comment, which- again, did not come. They kept the conversation light, and he made her laugh with stories about Prince. She was mesmerized by his eyes when he talked about his son. It still hurt like hell that he had children with that woman, or any woman that was not her, but his happiness was contagious. To her, he had never been more beautiful and enigmatic. He was funny and charming, and Lisa was finally allowing herself to relax and just enjoy spending time with him. Several times, Michael reached out to touch her hand across the table, sending shivers up her arm and straight to her still very sensitive core. Lisa also felt alarm bells go off, as she was reminded of other times his presence when his charm and his seductive skills had made her abandon all caution and all reason.
"So, how is it going with Debbie?" The question was asked after a short silence during which he had softly touched her hand again, gazing into her eyes, threatening to absorb her soul into their darkness.
He pulled his hand back and emptied yet another glass of wine.
"Fine, I guess. She finally left Neverland the other day."
"I hope she was not still upset."
"About?"
"About what I said to her."
"Yeah, you never told me what exactly you said to her. And she only shared that you were being a bitch."
"I don't know why she called me that. I didn't say that much to her at all; and certainly nothing bitchy."
